


Into the Unknown

by airedis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Spirits, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3068231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airedis/pseuds/airedis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're spirits that have moved through time</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> very loosely inspired by the song "I Remember" by Mocca

_Wake up_.  
  
Jongin stirred softly, feeling spots of warmth shining behind his eyelids. He turned away and pushed his cheek into the wispy grass beneath him.  
  
He was almost drifting again when he heard it.  
  
"Wake up."  
  
A hand shook his shoulder and Jongin squeezed his eyes tighter, desperately trying to sink himself back into sleep.  
  
"Jongin, wake up. I'm bored," came Zitao's voice from above him. There was a poke to his ribs and Jongin groaned before he pushed himself up.  
  
"You always wake me up right when I'm just getting to sleep," he groused.  
  
"You're always sleeping," Zitao snapped back, flitting up to sit on a low knot in the tree. The sun was shining down behind Zitao's hair, creating a halo of twinkling light. Jongin smiled and flopped back onto the grass.  
  
They always found somewhere quiet and this place was no different. They were draped in the soft branches of a willow tree and the only sound blanketing them was the distant chirping of birds. Somehow, they always stumbled upon places flooded with light but Jongin could only guess that that was because creatures like them fared best with somewhere to hide.  
  
He looked up at Zitao, watching his upside down figure pull bits of petal out of his hair. There wasn't a day that had passed that Jongin couldn't remember Zitao getting flowers caught in his hair. Jongin curled his toes in the grass as he watched Zitao swing his feet, humming with his eyes closed as his fingers carefully brushed out the bits of flower petals.  
  
"I wanted you to wake up," Zitao said, eyes still closed and fingers still at work. "Because there's a boy that I found near here. He looks like he could use a friend."  
  
Zitao looked down and met Jongin's growing smile with an impish smirk. Jongin loved that playful glint in Zitao's eyes.  
  
"Well, then," Jongin said, hopping up. His wings flickered out to the sides, buzzing excitedly. "What are we waiting for?"  
  
-  
  
They lived in the shadows.  
  
Jongin thought that was why they liked bright places - the brightest places had the darkest shadows, the softest blackness to curl up in and rest. He had never asked Zitao but he thought with great certainty that Zitao would probably agree with him.  
  
They were little shadows. Jongin wasn't sure, he'd never really talked with Zitao about it, but he thought they were both the same. He might have once been a person but he wasn't any longer; he's something else, a misty energy held together with light and darkness and something else. Zitao sometimes liked to say that they came from star dust and black holes and Jongin always hit him on the shoulder whenever he said ridiculous, romantic things like that but he secretly liked to believe it too. It was nice to pretend that they knew where they came from.  
  
Jongin thought that Zitao had always been there with him, probably. So much had changed around them but Zitao hadn't. They both seemed untouched by time, appearing wherever their hearts desired with little care and all the time in the world. They were greedy, taking what they wanted and stealing the laughter from each other's mouths without a second thought. Zitao had sometimes found him, hanging upside down from his knees from a branch or the crooked roof tiles of a house with his eyes closed, deep in thought. Jongin liked it when Zitao found him like that because Zitao would join him, his thin, inky wings tangling with Jongin's.  
  
Zitao liked running in the moonlight, chasing stars and swallowing them whole when they caught them. Jongin thought he was the most beautiful like that and sometimes he would hide the stars just so Zitao would try to find them. (He always did, but Jongin was happy to see him dash through the night in search of them.) Sometimes Zitao brought back the moonlight for him, twisting it into the shape of a Moon Flower, and he would brush back Jongin's dark hair and tuck the light in behind his ear. He said it looked the  
prettiest there and Jongin got embarrassed every time.  
  
-  
  
The boy that Zitao had found was a lonely little boy named Sehun in a small town buried deep in the mountains. Zitao said that he never left his room and he moped around inside all day.  
  
Jongin shook his head. "That is no way for a little boy to live," he said seriously. "We need to teach him how to find fun."  
  
They hung from Sehun's windowsill, watching the boy listlessly flip through a book on his bed. When his head thunked back on his pillows, Jongin turned to Zitao and nodded. They pushed open his window with light fingers, magic murmuring at their fingertips.  
  
Sehun didn't notice his open window until Jongin and Zitao were already hidden inside. As the boy got up to close it, Jongin tapped on his shoulder, flitting to the side when the boy turned, confused. He stifled his laughter and did it several more times, joy rising in him as Sehun turned around and around, bewildered to find no one behind him. Zitao lounged on the back of the boy's desk chair, a look of mirth settled comfortably on his face as Sehun finally tumbled down onto the fluffy rug beneath him.  
  
He blinked up dazedly at Jongin, face transformed into disbelieving shock as Jongin cheerily waved down at him. Zitao was at his side in an instant, arm wrapped around Jongin's shoulders and the corners of his lips curved up in a cat-like grin.  
  
Sehun refused to believe what they were. No matter how many times they insisted, walking through the air as if it were solid ground, taking great pleasure in "lecturing" him, Sehun wouldn't accept it.  
  
"I'm ten years old," he insisted, tongue catching heavy on his words. "I don't believe in faeries."  
  
"Oh, we're not faeries," Zitao replied, dropping to sit on Sehun's shoulder. His wings tickled Sehun's ear. "We're spirit shadows."  
  
From where he was laying on top of Sehun's head, Jongin shot him a look. Zitao shrugged and Sehun was none the wiser. Jongin hadn't heard Zitao call them "spirit shadows" before but it was as good a name as any. There wasn't a name for what they were, anyway, or at least if there was, he didn't know it. He rested his head in his hands, legs kicking in the air.  
  
-  
  
They brought Sehun outside, into the mountains and the forests and the cool spring air. Of course, they never missed an opportunity for mischief, hiding Sehun's shoes and tugging his hair into disarray. They liked to play tricks, harmless, light hearted tricks, but tricks nonetheless. There was something satisfying about it, Jongin felt, and it whirred inside him with each little trick they played. Sehun didn't seem to mind; he was too busy having fun.  
  
Jongin flitted away from the river where he had been flicking water at Sehun and found Zitao curled up in a fallen leaf. His eyes shined as he sprinkled grass all over the sleeping spirit but even as he did so he wished he could lie down next to him. The sun was starting to set and a calm chill was beginning to settle over the area in a foggy, golden haze. Playing was nice but it always did tire them out. But it was time to go; Sehun had to get home and they had to show the boy the way back.  
  
(Besides, no matter how much Zitao teased him, Jongin wasn't the only one to doze off several times a day. He often caught Zitao  
propped up against some branch or stem, arms draped loosely across his lap as petals in the wind found their way into his hair. Jongin had fun being the one to wake him up.)  
  
Sehun carried them back as Jongin and Zitao pointed out the way, each of them nestled in the middle of his tiny palms. He snuck inside the house, the shadows hidden against his shirt from any eyes, and set them down carefully on the windowsill.  
  
It was cracked open again, the cool breeze blowing into the room softly and rustling Sehun's already wind-tossed hair. They stood up and stretched, wings fluttering out, and bid him goodbye with a promise to come back to play again.  
  
When the curtains fell shut on Sehun's room, Zitao tugged Jongin's hand, nodding up to the roof with a small smile. Jongin followed him gladly, settling next to Zitao on the edge of the roof and laying into his side. His bare feet were cold against the tiles of the roof so he tangled them with Zitao's. It didn't really help but Jongin liked the feel of Zitao's skin and he was warm.  
  
Zitao always brought him up somewhere to watch the sun. He liked things like that, things that poets would write about and the snippets of radio songs that Jongin would sometimes catch. Jongin humored him though because the things that Zitao liked were always beautiful. The sky was alight with color and Zitao's hand came up to slide across Jongin's hair.  
  
"I hope it rains soon," Jongin said, watching the sun sink beneath the mountains.  
  
Jongin loved the rain, loved dancing through the drops of water as they splashed on the ground and through the leaves. He loved the feel of it in his hair and in his clothes and on the damp ground. He loved the way Zitao's eyes would go bright and he’d pick Jongin up, spinning him around in the water, and hold his hand as they raced through puddles. The rain made everything grow and he liked to watch the sprouts bud, tiny little things peeking out of the earth.  
  
Zitao hummed and leaned his head against Jongin's, hand still in his hair.


End file.
